Perfect in Weakness

To love God, I must be weak.

I must be ready; I must be holy.

To love God, I must be good to the poor.

I must receive His wisdom.

To love God, I must be like Jesus,

tending to the poor, the hurting,

the hungry, the sick,

And the dying.

To love God, I must love the drunkard,

the thief, the murderer.

 

I bring only hunger, dear God.

I bring the love of Your Son.

I bring the brightness of Your sun,

the light of Your moon,

the rustle of the trees in Your breath.

I bring the love of Your limitless glory.

In my mortal weakness

I am perfection in Your countenance.

 

 

© Russell Kendall Carter

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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